"Congratulations, Mist! I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, Mom," she answered warmly. Cassandra was the one person Mist felt any affection for, perhaps because she had spent her life comfortable in the knowledge that she was her mother's favorite.
"Now, I'm not allowed to choose sides when it comes to selecting the heir," her mother continued, "that's for the readers to decide. However, I just want you to know that I've always wanted you to be the heir. Ever since you were born, I've waited for you to be my successor."
"The two primary contenders, Nymph and Melody, were both lovely, sweet girls who would have been good heirs and mothers. But Melody was guided so much by her emotions, so impulsive and stubborn. Nymph was a wonderful child, but she never seemed to grow up. She was too dreamy, too wrapped up in her imagination."
Mist simply nodded in agreement. It had been all to easy to take the heirship from Nymph--sure, she was born first, but Mist had pulled the strings of the universe and caught up to her in age. Nymph had always seen her as the older sister after that: what Mist wanted, Mist got, whether that meant the top bunk to sleep in or the right to lead the family.
"Sweetheart, you're the practical one. Some people might call you cold, or cruel, evil or ruthless, but really you just do what needs to be done. If that means other people get hurt--that's just part of the job. And your job is to protect your family and bring them to prosper. Now, go do what you were born to do." Cassandra watched her daughter leave, then returned to her bedroom to write her memoirs.
The eldest daughter soon became adept at controlling her husband. There was incentive . . .
. . . the task . . .
. . . and reward.
Within two days he'd learned the drill and was as docile as a newborn puppy. Mist had punishments ready (with varying levels of pain), but they proved unnecessary. Wogan did whatever she wanted, and was locked in her room with a litter-box and a bowl of food on the ground when she left the house.
Once certain that her husband was completely under her control, Mist began to assess what it would take to reach the top. In her mind, it was like dominoes--choose the right piece to knock down, and every other domino would fall with it.
She was decided.
"Elvira Slayer, I propose an . . . alliance."
The ultimate alliance, really. Mist already knew that she was pregnant, so Elvira would have to deal with the consequences.
Elvira was not happy when Mist spun into her maternity clothes seconds later, realizing that her "partner" had planned for this to happen, but it was too late to turn back. Their alliance had been sealed in a way that would make it impossible to break, much to Elvira's chagrin.
She returned to her home, gave Wogan a treat for being such a good boy, and sent him to start learning how to paint. He had little talent for it, but someone would need to paint the portraits, and it certainly wouldn't be Mist.
Next, she sent him running around the town to inform her family of her dominance. First was Melody Moonstone, the happily married little fool. Wogan relayed back to Mist that her sister appeared to be attempting to flirt with him, for which Mist locked Wogan in a tiny room for twelve hours. Punishment Level 0.15.
He then introduced himself to Leaf's family on the other side of the city, on his way to the warehouse for work.
Mist was pleased.
